Page 9 of His Forbidden Duchess
Eloise’s smile faltered as she struggled to maintain her composure. “I do not know where you obtained that impression. He did notrun awayas you put it. I can assure you that my family has everything under control.” Eloise spoke through clenched teeth.
She only hoped that she had managed to speak with sufficient conviction to dissuade Lady Arabella from continuing that line of gossip.
She glanced at Hannah, who was trying her hardest not to snap back at Arabella. Eloise, feeling overwhelmed and needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere, took a deep breath. “I must excuse myself for a moment,” she added, her voice steady but on the verge of breaking. “I require some fresh air.”
She nodded politely to both ladies and immediately headed to the balcony.
Chapter Five
Felix stepped back and watched Dorothea’s dark eyes gleam with desire, her lips still slightly moist from the kiss they had just shared. She was already smoothing out her dress and adjusting her gloves, her composure impeccable. Felix smirked. She was well-experienced indeed.
“I should return to the main room,” she said, her voice low and teasing. “We would not want anyone to overly concern themselves with my prolonged absence, now would we?” She gave him a wink before tilting her head in a familiar, knowing way. “But later… perhaps you could visit my townhouse? Midnight, I trust?”
Felix offered a casual smile as though the arrangement was routine. “Of course. I would not dream of disappointing you.”
She touched his arm briefly before gliding out of the dim alcove, casting one final look over her shoulder. “Wait a couple ofminutes before you follow. Let us not stir up any gossip too soon.”
Felix exhaled as she disappeared into the lively hum of Lady Brimsleigh’s soirée and his tension from their rendezvous slowly dissipated. He was not in any rush to return to the main room—certainly not after that exchange. He needed a few moments to himself to temper the persistent heat in his chest.
Instead, he turned and wandered down a side corridor of the grand house, away from the music and chatter.
Lady Brimsleigh’s home was lavish and sprawling, with plenty of nooks and corners where one could escape unnoticed. It was one of the reasons he often agreed to come to her balls. He had no particular destination in mind, just the intention to waste a few minutes before making his way back to the soirée.
As he wandered, Felix’s thoughts began to drift as his usual composed demeanor returned. He could not help but smirk with amusement at how easily he slipped into these encounters yet always maintained a well-defined distance. None of it affected him: not the women, the flirtations, or the inevitable gossip that followed. It was all just part of the game that he played better than most.
It was the cry that first caught his attention, and he abruptly stopped walking. A high-pitched squeak of an exclamation was followed by a string of mutterings that he could not make out. His curiosity piqued, Felix moved quickly, slipping through the door to his left and out into the cool night air.
What greeted him was a strange, almost comical sight. Lord Mortcombe, pale as a ghost, was retching at the sight of something below the balcony.
He glanced up at Felix and muttered, “It was not me!” then darted away rapidly.
Felix furrowed his brow but stepped further out on the balcony, realizing it was Mortcombe’s cry he had heard. His gaze fell immediately upon Lady Eloise. She stood near the balustrade with one hand pressed against her cheek, and even in the dim light, Felix could see a thin line of blood trailing down her pale skin.
His heart beat a little harder.
“Lady Eloise?” Felix was beside her in an instant, his voice edged with concern. “What happened?”
Lady Eloise startled, her hand dropping from her cheek. “It is nothing, really.” She smiled, but it was shaky. “I stumbled and—well, I fell. That is all.”
Felix raised an eyebrow, his tone growing more protective. “You fell?” His gaze darted to the door through which Mortcombe had just disappeared, his jaw tightening. “And Lord Mortcombe just… what? Stood by and watched you injure yourself?”
Lady Eloise shook her head quickly, flustered. “No, no, it was not him. I—I tripped over my gown and hit the edge of thebalustrade.” She gestured vaguely to the stone railing. “It is nothing. He just… does not tolerate blood very well, it seems.”
She tried for another faint smile, and again, it was unconvincing.
Felix narrowed his eyes. “You never stumble.” His voice was quiet, but there was an undeniable note of disbelief. “I have never seen you trip over your gown in all the years I have known you. And Mortcombe, gagging at the sight of a scratch? I do not buy it.”
She swallowed, clearly flustered but holding her ground. “Your Grace, I promise, it is fine. He did not do anything. I was just… clumsy.”
Felix crossed his arms, leaning in slightly. “You are lying,” he said, his voice dropping to a softer, almost coaxing tone. “What really happened? What did Mortcombe do to you?”
She glared at up at him, her hand cupping her cheek once more. “Why do you care so much?” she demanded.
Felix recoiled, blinking at her question and straightening up. Whydidhe care so much? He had never cared about anything or anyone.
“Why… you are… you are my best friend’s sister, of course. I have known you since you were a child. I have a duty to protect you.”
Lady Eloise tutted and turned away from him. “You have no such duty. Leave me alone.”
